


Monopoly House Rules

by thursjournal



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Game Night, M/M, monopoly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursjournal/pseuds/thursjournal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House rules get interesting when John lands in Monopoly jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monopoly House Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by  Never Have I Ever  by hudders-and-hiddles.

John rolled the dice and sighed. He leaned forward in his chair and tapped the small silver dog along the seven spaces from Pennsylvania Railroad to the Chance square. His hand hovered over the stack of cards as he surveyed his two remaining dollars and the sad pile of mortgaged properties. He flipped the card over and hung his head. The fire crackled warmly and rain poured down outside.

"Go directly to jail," he groaned as he slammed the scotty dog onto the square. Sherlock smirked across the board. He took his turn, landing on his own property. John failed to get doubles on his next 3 rolls as Sherlock passed Go and added to his growing fortune. John held the dice in his hand and ground his back teeth. 

"Maybe we can work out an...arrangement," he said casually.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and steepled his fingers. 

"Perhaps," he drawled.

"Let me out of jail," John said, "And you can do that experiment with pigeons. In the flat."

Sherlock shook his head. "No promises of future acts. If I wanted an I.O.U. I'd let you have second mortgages on your properties."  
"Alright," John counted, "Let me out of jail and I'll give you a cigarette."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes but nodded. He watched curiously as John left the room and listened as he climbed the stairs and crossed to his wardrobe. After several minutes of opening drawers and shuffling clothes, John returned and dropped a single cigarette on the board between them. He pushed the little silver dog to the "just visiting" section of the square while Sherlock smiled deviously.

John made it through two turns without incident before landing on Atlantic with a hotel. 

"Tea?" He asked Sherlock.

"And some of Mrs. Hudson's biscuits," Sherlock added.

"Those are for her bridge club," John complained.

"Then you'll have to be very persuasive," Sherlock answered.

John grumbled but put the kettle on and stomped downstairs. Sherlock had finished his cigarette by the time John returned with a plate of biscuits, which he set down with flourish alongside a cup of tea. 

They cruised around the board, Sherlock on his own properties and John getting a string of good rolls until Sherlock finally landed on John's Baltic Avenue. He rolled his eyes at John's gleeful demand for $4 and pulled a note from the top of his massive stack.

"Oh no!" John's eyes sparkled, "your money's no good here. Haven't you heard? There's been a total collapse of the economy. We're on the barter system now."

Sherlock wordlessly carried the tea cups and empty plate into the kitchen and returned with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey they'd gotten from a client. John toasted him before taking a satisfied sip. They drank their way through two more trips around the board, with John fetching Sherlock's robe, putting rosin on his violin bow, and getting takeout.

When John landed on St. James with two houses he drained the rest of his whiskey and huffed out a soft laugh.

"I'm out of bribes. Guess I'll have to start turning tricks."

A look flickered across Sherlock's face for only a moment before being replaced by a cool mask of indifference. John's stomach did a small flip. His tongue flickered across his lower lip. Sherlock's eyes moved to follow the motion. 

"Fancy a kiss?" John asked archly.

Sherlock swallowed but shrugged. "If that's all you have to offer."

John got up from his chair and walked around the board to stand in front of Sherlock. He leaned down, tilted his head slightly, and pressed his lips chastely to Sherlock's. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey. 

John returned to his seat and poured them both another drink with a steady hand. Sherlock took it and sipped, looking at John over the rim of of his glass. 

"What will you do if you land on a hotel?" 

The side of John's mouth twisted up. Three turns later he stopped on Pacific next to a green plastic hotel. Without hesitation he crossed the space between them and leaned down, placing his hands on Sherlock's thighs. He kissed with heat this time, slipping his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. A groan rumbled in Sherlock's chest. John smiled into the kiss as he broke away.

Sherlock returned the favour when he landed on Vermont, running his fingers through John's hair and biting at his lip.

They continued like this as the flat grew darker and the rain slowed to a drizzle. Each turn upped the ante until they both looked disheveled, with John stripped of his jumper and Sherlock's shirt half unbuttoned.

John sipped his drink and grinned across the Monopoly board. Sherlock was trying to count out eleven spaces through three glasses of whiskey. Even though the fire had died down, John felt warm. 

"We should do this more often," he slurred.

Sherlock's hand stuttered and knocked over the house on Kentucky Avenue. John had plenty of time to see the deep frown before it disappeared. John's heart sank.

"It's an acceptable way to fill the time," Sherlock said, still staring at the board.

"When you don't have a case," John said coldly.

"When you don't have a girlfriend," Sherlock shot back. 

John slammed his glass down on the table, pushed himself up, and paced a tight circle behind his chair. The warmth had drained from the room. His hands were balled into fists and everything about his posture was yelling in anger, but when he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't DO this, Sherlock."

"Which part, playing board games or kissing men?" Sherlock asked bitterly. John stared at the carpet, hands still in tight knots by his side.

"Trusting people," he said quietly.

The words hung between them. Rain beat steadily on the window. A dying ember flared with a crack in the fireplace. Finally, Sherlock rose carefully from his chair and crossed to stand in front of John. He raised his arms slowly and wrapped them around John's shoulders, drawing him gently into a hug. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of John's chest pushing against him. Sherlock silently counted the ragged breaths. They slowed, and eventually John eased his arms around Sherlock, gripping the back of his robe and turning his face to rest in the crook of Sherlock's neck. Sherlock held John tightly until he eventually began to stir, then pressed a soft kiss to the side of John's face and stepped back. He waited. John rubbed his eyes roughly. 

"I think I prefer this to Cluedo," John laughed, "although with these rules I'm not sure how we know who's won."

Sherlock smiled. "Then perhaps we should build up the fire. We may be here a while."

"I'll make tea," John said, turning towards the kitchen, "but I'm taking it out of your rent."


End file.
